


Charcoal and Chalk

by hongmunmu



Series: Life, Death, Time, Earth [9]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Canon Backstory, Friendship, M/M, Retelling, Rivalry, jiraoro, orojira
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-30
Updated: 2013-12-30
Packaged: 2018-01-06 17:04:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1109351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hongmunmu/pseuds/hongmunmu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reminiscing on Orochimaru and Jiraiya, in 2 parts. (i wrote this at 3am)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Charcoal and Chalk

**Author's Note:**

> it's mostly a retelling of the scene where orochimaru fled konoha and jiraiya tried to keep him from leaving (although what good what that have done, seeing as he was already a criminal by that stage TT_TT he woulda been killed...)

As Tsunade grows older, her temper falls, as does her rivalry with Jiraiya. With time, she no longer bickers with him as she used to, the hardships of war having matured them both. They both subdue, seeking to find refuge in eachother while they know they can.

  
With time Tsunade notices that the dynamics of her teammates have changed. Orochimaru, once what seemed to be a neutral presence, a middle ground where she and Jiraiya clashed so frequently, had grown into a new position. As Orochimaru grew older, both she and Jiraiya had noticed that he gained confidence. As a child, Orochimaru had often been the subject of Jiraiya's jibes and pranks, but he rarely put up much resistance, often allowing Jiraiya to drag him around on a whim. At twenty-one, this was no longer the case; Tsunade simply observed her teammates as they seemed to develop some strange kind of bond of which she was sure, she was not part of.

  
In every sense, they were like yin and yang. Orochimaru's skin was paper-white, with roughly the same texture, and, like paper, it was thin; thin enough that his veins glowed blue and purple against his hands and neck like a ghost. Jiraiya's skin had a texture more akin to that of concrete without the solidity, tan from hours outdoors in the sun, rough and even calloused in places, with scars and discolored patches everywhere. Jiraiya's white hair was light, with a feathery sort of texture, and messy; so messy that sometimes Tsunade wondered if he even owned a hairbrush. Orochimaru's hair was exactly the opposite, a dull black like charcoal, and with a strange kind of weight; on the few times Tsunade had been allowed to touch Orochimaru's hair she had noted that really was incredibly heavy and so thick it might as well have been a solid mass of silk rather than individual strands. Jiraiya was tall, strong and muscular, where Orochimaru was unbelievably thin and sickly to the point where he could be called frail, standing a good few inches shorter than Jiraiya.

  
They were opposites in every way; the longer Tsunade knew them, the more she realised it. It was almost as if they were trying to be opposites; during the time they had shared a flat for some time, as the three of them sat on the floor around the triangular table, Jiraiya had drank sake where Orochimaru drank green tea, and Jiraiya snored loudly, sprawled over his futon, where Orochimaru was silent and still to the point that one wouldn't have noticed he was there. They reminded Tsunade of day and night, cliché as it was.

  
Tsunade had never in particular paid much attention to Orochimaru and Jiraiya's relationship - the war had preoccupied her slightly - but now that they were all in Konoha without the stress and restlessness of impending battle upon them, she had been picking up the tiniest of details between the interactions of the two.  
At times she wondered if they even needed her at all.

 

* * *

 

Orochimaru has come to realise that he hates Konoha.

  
He is running as fast as his body will take him but it's not fast enough, and his mind cannot shake the image of Sarutobi standing there, looking at him so pathetically, unable to move.

  
He has lost an earring and he is fed up of smelling like sickness.

  
He runs faster ignoring the screaming muscles in his legs imploring him to stop. Orochimaru is well aware that Jiraiya is pursuing him, and that chances are Jiraiya will catch up to him. Indeed, in his current state, it was likely that Jiraiya would even be able to defeat him and capture him.

  
But Orochimaru could not afford to lose his ambitions for the wishes of fools.

  
Fools - that's all they were.

  
Orochimaru pushes himself on although he is aware he is inevitably going to slow down at some stage. He has reached a different part of the forest now, where the trees are thin and much closer together with extremely long and invasive branches that seem determined to slow him down and get in his way, as if they are urging him to turn around, to go back, their voices whispering with the snaps of the dry leafless branches and all the sounds of a dead winter.

  
Orochimaru realises that somewhere along the way he has lost his second earring, and mentally curses Konoha, blaming the village for his loss of the turquoise stone tomoes. He had been fond of those earrings.

  
Fondness wasn't a sensation he was used to.

  
Orochimaru heard Jiraiya's voice call his name faintly in the distance. It wasn't a good sign; it meant Jiraiya had gained on him. The voice was closer now than it had been the last time he had heard it.

  
Just then Orochimaru heard a twig snap behind him and hurls a kunai, stopping for a brief second to see the body of the nameless Konoha shinobi fall to the ground. He felt no sympathy.  
Orochimaru stared at the body coldly for a moment before continuing to run.

  
As the sun begins to set, it gets cold; his feet and hands grow numb, and Orochimaru briefly stops running to vomit up some blood. He can smell the sickness coming off him and it physically disgusts him. He throws up some more.

  
Weakly, Orochimaru pushes himself up off the ground and stands, looking at the mess soaking into the dead forest floor, wiping blood off his mouth with the back of his sleeve. He turns slowly, knowing it's too late to run. He is greeted with the sight of Jiraiya, panting, fists clenched.

  
"Don't run," Jiraiya calls, in between heavy pants. His breath rises up in a cloud of steam. He takes a few more steps towards Orochimaru but doesn't come any closer than that. Orochimaru watches him coldly, all his muscles tensed, prepared to run or attack. He doesn't run.

  
For a few moments neither of them say anything, just stare at eachother, trying to catch their breath.

"You are a fool to think you can stop me," Orochimaru says, trying his best to twist a sneer into the words, although it doesn't work so effectively as he's out of breath.

"I would be a fool not to try," Jiraiya replies quietly. Orochimaru twitches at that.

" _Idiot!_ " He hisses, warm anger flaring up in his cold body. "Don't you know they've been ordered to kill me on sight? Do you think you will just be able to bring me back to Konoha and everything will be back to normal?"

Jiraiya doesn't flinch when Orochimaru lashes out nor does he show any reaction to his words. Quietly, almost sadly, he responded:

"Why did you do it? How could you do such...sick...things?"

Jiraiya was, of course, referring to the bloodied lines of human test subjects chained to the walls and floor of Orochimaru's lab.

Orochimaru just smirks.

" _Sick_ , what an appropriate word."

Jiraiya doesn't smile. If anything, he looks wounded. Like a lost puppy.

Orochimaru looks at Jiraiya's pathetic expression and just starts to laugh.

He can't even control himself; he couldn't stop the maddening, addictive laughter if he wanted to. He was fully aware that he probably sounded like a maniac, a cackling villain, a mad scientist; the word _evil_ briefly flashed across his mind for a moment - but Orochimaru really didn't care at this stage. The laughter said it all. It masked and encompassed everything Orochimaru wanted to say - his desire for power, the grief he felt for his parents, the guilt for Nawaki and Dan's deaths, Tsunade's suffering, the pain as a result of how it changed Tsunade, the sympathy he had for the three orphans they met in Amegakure, the contemplation of suicide, Nawaki's bright smile and laugh seconds before the explosion, the logic behind sacrifices he had made, his desire to end suffering, the _sound_ Tsunade had made when Dan died, how all of his reasons came together to a head that resulted in cruelty -

Orochimaru didn't say a word.

He just laughed.

And laughed.

And laughed.

 

Jiraiya doesn't move; he can't move. He says nothing; from what he can see, Orochimaru has said all that needs to be said. Jiraiya has trouble accepting the truth that dawned on him.

"You say you did all this for power, Orochimaru, but with the state you are in you know I could defeat you easily if I wanted to."

Orochimaru is still laughing.

"Go on, then!" He shouts.

Jiraiya moves fast; within a second he has landed hits to Orochimaru's shoulder and chest, knocking him off balance; Orochimaru quickly catches himself, darting around JIraiya, arming himself with kunai as he moves; Jiraiya intercepts with his back leg, and spins around, hands outstretched in an attempt to force Orochimaru down, only to find himself pushing a log, moving to see the real Orochimaru panting, supporting himself against a tree a few metres away.

Jiraiya picks himself up, moving slowly to prevent provoking Orochimaru to run. Orochimaru's face is still frozen in some kind of manic grin. He is smiling but beads of sweat are on his face and neck, he's shaking from cold and exhaustion and there is a smudge of blood on the corner of his mouth.

Slowly Jiraiya approaches him and pins the paler man back against the tree; Orochimaru makes no move to escape, unclear whether he chooses not to or doesn't have the energy to try. Orochimaru avoids making eye contact with Jiraiya, his eyes instead lowered to look on the forest floor.

"Why are you fighting back when you know you can't win?" Jiraiya says quietly, his voice a strange kind of whisper, breathless and freezing, forcing itself out of a dry throat.

"Who...says...I can't win, I'm so much more powerful than you," Orochimaru replies in the same hoarse whisper, his face still locked in that terrifying smile, eyes avoiding Jiraiya's.

Jiraiya doesn't reply, just moves one of his hands and wipes some of the blood off Orochimaru's mouth.

"Look at you, you're falling apart," Jiraiya murmurs, quietly looking at the bloodied fingertip.

Orochimaru's eyes falter slightly. He doesn't reply.

They stand in silence for a few moments more. Orochimaru still doesn't look at Jiraiya.

Eventually, Jiraiya lets out a resigned kind of sigh, and he lowers his arms from Orochimaru's shoulders.

"Here."

Orochimaru looks in front of him to see his earrings lying in Jiraiya's palm.

In a slight moment of shock, Orochimaru glances up at Jiraiya, his eyes wide in surprise; this time it's Jiraiya who avoids eye contact. He shoves the stone earrings into one of Orochimaru's open hands and closes his fingers over it, then steps back. Orochimaru's smile is long gone. In shock he instinctively coughs, and more blood spatters out. Jiraiya just looks on pitifully.

"Go," He says quietly.

Orochimaru looks up from his hands.

"What?"

"I said, go. Run."

Orochimaru just stares in shock like a frightened animal.

"Are you deaf?! Go, run, you idiot! That's what you want, isn't it?!" Jiraiya shouts, distressed, and shoves Orochimaru away from him. Orochimaru stumbles backwards before catching himself; slowly he backs away a few steps, still looking strangely at Jiraiya, all of his bravado from before long gone. Jiraiya doesn't move, he just stares at Orochimaru infuriated, fists clenched, face heated. Orochimaru, still watching Jiraiya, takes one, two, three more steps backwards; unclear whether he is cautious, scared or reluctant to leave.

Orochimaru has found that he hates Konoha.

He stares at Jiraiya, breathing orally, the scent of sickness in his nose, and tries not to let himself think about all the nights he had spent as a child, alone in those terrible community living quarters, crying himself to sleep, trying to convince himself that he still had enough time to become a good person.

"Just fucking run!" Jiraiya shouts at him, angrily. Orochimaru flinches and does so, turning heel and running in the opposite direction, not looking back. Jiraiya feels hot tears welling up as he falls down to his knees and watches his friend run farther and farther away from him, and despite knowing that the only other alternative to this is for Orochimaru to be captured and killed, he doesn't feel any better about it. He can't move; just watches until Orochimaru is no longer visible.

It's already dark.

Jiraiya knows he should turn around and head back to Konoha but he cannot bring himself to tear his eyes away from the spot where Orochimaru was.  
He wonders if that was the same reason Orochimaru hesitated to run, as well.

But there is no-one to tell Jiraiya to run.  
Not anymore.

He stands and turns around, making the defeated walk back to Konoha.  
No matter what Orochimaru did, there was no way Jiraiya would ever be able to kill him.


End file.
